


The Boy Who Tells a Lie

by luckless_is_me



Series: Of Robots and Gummy Bears [3]
Category: Big Hero 6
Genre: Aged Down! Hiro, Aged Up! Tadashi, Alternative Universe- Not Related, Fluff Practice (this is not fluffy at all... what have I done?), M/M, Scene in the Life of Tadashi, What Are Summaries?, What are Tags?, mentions of bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckless_is_me/pseuds/luckless_is_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tadashi doesn't know what to do and longs for the simpler times when Hiro still begged him for gummy bears and just one more movie before bed.</p><p>He's in way over his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Who Tells a Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sunday!
> 
> So, a little warning before you read on: this was supposed to be fluffy. 'Supposed to be' being the operative part of that. And yeah… it's not. (I̶'̶m̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶.̶)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this work. All characters belong to Disney/Marvel.

Tadashi nibbles on the inside of his cheek, his fingers drumming impatiently against the handlebars of his moped as he waits by the sidewalk, just out of the way of the cars streaming in and out of the drop off bay. There are teenagers everywhere, streaming out of the main building of the high school in front of him, stepping into their parent's cars with mumbled greetings, filing with their friends to the nearby buses. Several people glance his way. A couple of girls send him flirtatious smiles and little waves; numerous teachers watch him like he doesn't belong there at all.

And he supposes that he really doesn't with his San Fransokyo Institute of Technology backpack balanced precariously on the back of his vehicle and his _Ninjas_ baseball cap tied to the handlebars. He is not a student, nor is he a parent. To them, he probably looks like some creepy twenty-three year old hanging around a high school ready to kidnap someone.

He groans at the thought, running his hand through his hair— because he really is here to kidnap someone (with their guardian's consent, of course). Cass had called him sometime between his first and second class because she was worried about how Hiro was doing and thought that he would be able to help in ways that she couldn't. Which may or may not be true. The sweet little boy that used to beg him for gummy bears at five and just one more movie before bedtime at eight grew into a sullen eleven year old that barely talks to him on his good days.

Not that Tadashi can really blame him for that.

He'd been pretty good about making it to the café when he had first started college. He made time for little outings to the park and trips to the museum once a month. He helped Cass schedule sleepovers and holiday celebrations. He had tried really hard to stay in touch and to be there— because Cass and Hiro were pretty much his family now— but once he'd started working on his robotics portfolio in his second year, he'd started to fall behind and things had just gotten out of hand from there. He was always swamped with work.

And he just didn't have as much time for Hiro anymore.

These days, Tadashi considers himself lucky if he manages to stop by and see him once or twice a month. He sincerely regrets his lack of free time, especially since Hiro stopped greeting him with hugs and declarations of love. Though, he supposes that this is normal; Hiro had to grow up eventually. But it still hurt when Hiro quit asking if he'd brought him gummy bears, when he'd stopped stealing his hat and running down the street with it.

It hurt even more when he'd stopped responding to his presence at all.

Tadashi sighs a little wistfully, glancing toward the double doors that lead into the high school. Most of the students have already filed out, but there's still a steady trickle of them coming through the doors and there are still a couple of parents waiting at the bay. School's been out for a little while now and he's a little scared that Hiro saw him waiting and boarded one of the buses in an effort to avoid him— because Hiro sometimes does things like that— but then he sees him step through the double doors. He's swimming in his blue hoodie and he's folded in on himself to the point of disappearing beneath his backpack, but he's undeniably Hiro.

He smiles a little at the sight, because even if Hiro doesn't look particularly happy, seeing him unhappy is somewhat better than not seeing him at all. " _Hiro_ ," he calls, waving from his spot beside the sidewalk.

The boy in question jumps, tensing and twisting around like someone's out to get him before those almond-shaped eyes of his glance his way. Hiro scowls at the sight of him, and it's not nearly as cute as it used to be.

"Hey, you," he greets when Hiro stomps over to him, smiling somewhat awkwardly with his fingers still drumming against the handlebars.

Hiro shifts at his heels, his brown eyes narrowing as he tightens his grip on his backpack's straps. "If you're here to take me to therapy, I'll scream and get you arrested for attempted child abduction."

Tadashi blanches at the heated threat, blinking and sitting up a little straighter. And while Cass had informed him on the phone that she'd recently tried enrolling him in counseling sessions that he's been refusing to attend, he hadn't expected that kind of greeting. Or that glare. "I'm not here to take you to therapy," he responds honestly.

Hiro crosses his arms like he doesn't believe him, glancing back at the teachers loitering outside the building before returning his eyes to the moped. Tadashi smiles at him and he sighs, deflating. "Then why are you here exactly?"

"To spend time with you," he tries, grabbing the extra helmet at his side and offering it to him.

The boy takes it with a disdainful scoff, moving it around in his hands with one eyebrow raised before putting it on his head. "Somehow, I doubt that."

"Don't be like that," Tadashi mumbles, leaning forward to help with the chin strap only to have his hands swatted away as Hiro starts to do it himself, his lithe little fingers unused to the material and fumbling with it. Sighing, he pulls back, quirking his mouth to the side, "Look, I'm free all afternoon. We can do anything you want to do."

Hiro finally manages to put the helmet's clasp in place, his arms once again crossing at his chest. He looks at him for a moment, all big brown eyes and tight lips. Tadashi opens his mouth after a while, like he's going to say something— though he has no idea what _to_ say— but Hiro cuts him off with a little sigh, clumsily climbing onto the bike. "Can we just— umm," he starts, his voice a little muffled by the helmet, and while he can't see him, Tadashi can feel his fingers anxiously knotting in the fabric of his jacket, "Can we just go to the park? The one downtown that we used to go to?"

Tadashi twists to the side so he can see him over his shoulder. The helmet's a little big on him and it slides down his forehead more than it should, pushing his hair into his eyes; he smiles at the sight. "Sure. We can go there. Do you want to get dinner while we're out? In a couple of hours, I mean."

Hiro glances away from him, his mouth set in a scowl as he adjusts his backpack. "Whatever," he says.

And Tadashi just assumes that's the end of the conversation, his smile drooping a bit as he faces forward again and begins to ease the vehicle into the schoolyard traffic. Almost everyone is gone now— with the exception of the disapproving teachers that are glaring at him from the front of the building— and it's easy enough to merge with the automobiles beyond the school's borders, even with the extra weight clinging to his back.

The park— a small, green nook in the middle of downtown that's more of a Japanese garden than a playground for kids— isn't very far away from Hiro's school, but the ride there seems to take forever with the moped jerking to a stop in the heavy traffic every few minutes. He's not used to driving with a passenger, so he takes extra precautions to make sure that Hiro isn't thrown from the bike. He slowly comes to a stop at red lights; he eases them into the turns.

He tries, but it isn't a smooth ride. And as soon as he parks, Hiro jumps off of the bike as if he's been burned, stumbling a bit as he does.

"Has your driving always been that bad," he asks, and despite the scowl that still stretches across his lips, he sounds a little more like the Hiro he's used to now. The atrocious state of his hair when he yanks off the helmet sends a horrible wave of nostalgia through Tadashi's gut.

But he pushes it away with a shake of his head, removing his own helmet with far more grace. "Probably," he responds cheekily, dismounting the moped and grabbing his backpack off the back. The weight of it puts him a little off balance, but he's used to the feeling.

"Unbelievable," Hiro huffs through his nose.

Tadashi's not entirely sure of what to say next— because eleven year old Hiro is far more difficult than his younger predecessors— so he just motions for him to follow him down the stone path that leads to the center of the gardens. Hiro falls in step with him easily, and it's almost like Tadashi remembers it being. When Hiro was younger, he used to bring him here all the time. They would walk around and around the path until Hiro was too tired to walk anymore, and then they would find a seat near the koi pond and Hiro would count the fish.

Except, it isn't the same because Hiro used to pull on his arm or run on ahead until Tadashi was sure he'd never manage to catch up with him— and he doesn't do any of that now. Instead, he just stays at his side, his gaze tilted downward and his mouth set in that increasingly familiar scowl.

So, they just walk. They walk along the path, side by side, until they've passed most of the flower gardens and are coming up on the pond at the center of the park. And Tadashi isn't sure what to say or what to do. Cass asked him on the phone to figure out what was going on with him— because she's worried about him and nothing she tries seems to work— but Tadashi isn't very confident in his ability to do that. Hiro didn't exactly greet him with open arms, and he's been drifting away from him for years anyway.

He's just the babysitter that Hiro doesn't really need anymore.

Hiro steps off the path at the edge of the pond and tosses his backpack to the ground before throwing himself down beside it. He crosses his legs and looks up at him expectantly with one thick black eyebrow raised. Tadashi shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot, and Hiro just sighs, his shoulders hunching inward as he runs his hand through his hair.

"So," he starts, letting the word fall off his tongue, "why exactly are you here?"

Tadashi blinks at him. Carefully, he lowers his bag to the ground and takes a seat in front of him. "I told you already— to spend time with you."

Another derisive little snort, "We both know you wouldn't be here if my Aunt hadn't called you or went to see you or— or _whatever_ she did. So, spill it. What is this little outing supposed to accomplish? I have a test tomorrow and I _don't_ want to be out here all afternoon."

Hiro doesn't say if he'll be studying for that test— and Tadashi's under the distinct impression that he won't be— but he's pretty sure Hiro just doesn't want to be around him right now and needs an excuse that will appeal to his 'good student' ethics to get him to take him home. This is not how Tadashi wants this conversation to go.

But he supposes that it's a good enough a place to start as any.

"Aunt Cass _did_ call me," he begins; Hiro rolls his eyes and looks away. "She's worried about you." He doesn't add that he is too, because he's under the impression that that's not something that Hiro wants to hear.

"There's nothing for her to be worried about. I'm _fine_."

"You're fine?" His eyebrow rises suspiciously. Hiro turns back to glare at him. "You don't seem fine."

"I said I'm fine so I'm _fine_ ," he stresses. He crosses his arms over his chest; his sleeves are just baggy enough to reveal a tiny strip of skin when the fabric bunches around his wrists.

Tadashi tilts his head to the side before letting out a long, drawn out sigh. "Okay," he says, his voice easy, backing off already because he doesn't like making Hiro mad and he can already see his jaw beginning to clench, his knuckles turning white. He wants to know why Hiro's so defensive— what's _actually_ wrong with him— but he knows that this isn't the best way to go about it. Hiro doesn't like being cornered. And Tadashi knows he'll have to angle his questions a little differently if he wants them answered honestly— or at all, for that matter.

Hiro blinks at him skeptically, "Okay?"

"Okay." He opens up his bag and pulls out one of his binders, flipping it open nonchalantly as he props it up in his lap. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. We can just sit here, I guess."

Hiro's jaw drops for a moment before he snaps it closed, his bottom lip falling between his teeth as he nibbles on it. He stares at him for several seconds, all big brown eyes and sharp little chin, before shaking his head and lying out on the ground, flipping onto his stomach and facing out toward the pond. "Whatever," he finally says.

For a while, Tadashi doodles on the blank pages of his binder— random robot designs, his friends and their portfolio projects— and watches Hiro work on some of his schoolwork. He smiles at the way Hiro fidgets around on the ground, twisting this way and that as he tries to get comfortable, his math textbook stretched out in front of him. It's cute in that little kid way he's used to— because no matter what age he is, Hiro can't seem to stay still. He tilts his head to the side to see him at a slightly better angle, but when he does, he catches sight of something that makes his heart lurch, the gears in his head set in motion as Hiro brings the tip of his pencil to his temple, his sleeve slipping down to his elbow.

There's a bruise wrapped around his arm. It's shaped like a hand.

"Hey, Hiro," he tries, swallowing thickly, "do you like school?"

Hiro shrugs his shoulders stiffly, his elbows planted on the ground as he turns his head to look at him. "It's boring. The classes are too easy."

"We can't all be geniuses," Tadashi chuckles weakly in response, pushing his binder to the side. He feels sick to his stomach. "What about your classmates? Do you like them?"

He makes a face, scrunching up his nose, his lips pressing together, "They're okay, I guess."

"You guess?" And he's never really thought about it before, but it really must be hard, being an eleven year old sophomore. Hiro's already in the tenth grade and he's small for his age. Everyone else must tower over him.

"Yup." He pops the 'p,' twisting his pencil between his fingers

"So, you don't—," he cuts himself off, biting at his cheek in an attempt to find the right words. The ones that won't make Hiro angry, but won't cause him to lie either. "So, you don't have any problems with them? Your classmates?"

"No." It sounds like a question with Hiro setting his pencil down in the fold of his textbook and glancing up at him uneasily.

Tadashi inhales slowly and reaches forward. His hand dwarfs the bruise on his arm, wrapping around it and covering it completely. Hiro gasps, abruptly sitting up and pulling his arm away, his sweater sleeve falling over it, hiding the evidence. He bites at his lower lip and his cheeks tinge pink as he looks away, breathing heavily in that anxious way of his.

Tadashi knows that he should shut this down right now, because he's more than aware of the fact that Hiro's prone to panic attacks and that he could easily trigger one— but he's angry. He's angry at whoever caused the bruise— a teenager, based on the size of the handprint. Someone who's probably twice the size of Hiro, who would have had to have grabbed him with the _intention_ of hurting him to leave a mark that obvious. He's angry at the teachers who obviously didn't do anything about it.

And he's angry at Hiro— for not telling him and insisting that everything's just fine.

"Who did that," he tries to keep his voice steady, but it comes out gruff and heated. Hiro hunches his shoulders; he doesn't say anything. "Hiro," he huffs, reaching forward and grabbing him by the forearm, literally dragging him closer, his grip light enough to keep from hurting him but firm enough to keep him in place. The boy in question squeaks and squirms against him. " _Who did that?_ "

"No one!" Hiro presses against his chest with his palm; the crown of his head bumps against the underside of Tadashi's chin.

But Tadashi just grits his teeth and tightens his grip. " _Hiro!_ "

The name comes out as a yell and Hiro stills, flinching in his arms. His chest heaves up and down, those big brown eyes of his wide and glistening— his chest is moving just a little too fast, his breathing on the cusp of a full blown panic attack.

Tadashi pulls away as if he's been burned, dropping Hiro's arm and scooting as far away as he comfortably can. He feels nauseous, and he's suddenly glad that dusk is approaching and there's no one else in this part of the park. Because he's a grown man that just attacked a child.

He puts his head in his hands and breathes against his palms. He messed up. And Hiro's an infuriating kid half the time, but he's still just a kid. There was no reason for him to react like that. Tadashi glances up through his fingers once his breathing evens out and the tension leaves his shoulders.

Hiro's curled up where he let him go, his sneakers twisting in the grass, his chin resting on his knees. He looks okay, and he's staring at him, those doe-like eyes of his as wide as always. They blink at each other— and Hiro's the one to look away, his eyes glazing a bit as he stares out at the pond. "Sorry," he says.

He sounds small; Tadashi's gut twists. "No— no, I shouldn't've— gaah," he makes a hopeless sort of noise, running his hand haphazardly through his hair; Hiro breathes a little laugh and somehow, that makes him feel better. "I'm sorry. That was… out of line. God, just— why didn't you say anything?"

Hiro shrugs, all skinny shoulders and knotted black hair.

He sighs, "We should— I'll go with you to the principal's office in the morning and—"

"No."

"No? Hiro, you can't just let them—"

" _No_ , Tadashi," he stresses, uncurling and letting his legs fall open as he leans forward. "It'll just make it _worse_."

"But," he grimaces, shaking his head. The thought of just letting it go leaves a nasty taste in his mouth, but one look at Hiro's pleading eyes has him deflating and giving in. "We should at least tell your Aunt," he compromises. "She's worried about you. She'll feel a little better knowing what's going on."

Hiro pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and stares down at the grass. "I don't wanna have to tell her."

"I'll tell her," he offers, leaning forward to ruffle his hair. It's oddly rewarding when Hiro lets him. "Okay? I'll tell her so you don't have to?"

He glances up at him through his messy fringe. And Tadashi's not quite sure of the emotion he sees in his eyes— something between sad and grateful— but he glances back down at the grass before he can figure it out. "Okay." **  
**

* * *

Tadashi keeps him out until sometime after ten. He buys him dinner from a ramen joint downtown that has robotics murals on the walls and he takes him to one of those horrible monster movies that he absolutely adores. He showers him with sweets and keeps him running around and talking until he's all caught up on everything that's going on in Hiro's life.

By the time they get back to the Lucky Cat Café, Cass is the only one still downstairs and Hiro's dead on his feet. Cass smiles at them when they come in and kisses them both on the cheek before sending Hiro upstairs because he has school in the morning and he really should have been in bed already.

Tadashi watches him go. And then he settles in to explain to Aunt Cass that everything is not as alright as it should be.

Because Hiro's in for another two and a half years of this and he's not so sure he's okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> And thus we have part three. Hiro's a little more… angry(?) in this one. He gets harder and harder to write as he gets older.
> 
> I'm still practicing with present tense and dialogue in this section, so I would love to hear your thoughts on these things (and anything else you feel like bringing to my attention; there's bound to be something in here). I also tried used this for a bit of movement practice (going from the school to the gardens, walking around the gardens, etc.) so I hope that came out okay.
> 
> Production: The last section of this still isn't finished (b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶H̶i̶r̶o̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶e̶), but expect the next section to be up on April 5th.
> 
> Comments are welcomed and responded to! I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Edit: Now with a lovely mini comic by Kita! [Part 1](http://luckless-is-me.tumblr.com/post/125278181534/lovely-cover-art-for-my-of-robots-and-gummy-bears) [Part 2](http://luckless-is-me.tumblr.com/post/125278552619/lovely-cover-art-for-my-of-robots-and-gummy-bears)  
> The comic takes place in between this part and the last!


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